Stalkers
by AnonymousCreep
Summary: After escaping a past he barely remembers with Axel, Roxas suffers from post-traumatic stress syndrome and thinks the shadows are out to get him; and two figures, a blonde and a black, are either around to protect him, or bring him back to his old life.
1. Roxas i

The door had slammed so loudly and suddenly that Axel could feel the wood colliding with the doorframe sharply in his bones. He exhaled running his hand through his spiky, crimson hair. Why had he not told him _sooner_? And _why_ was he waiting until just now to tell him? Had he been afraid that the boy would not believe him? He looked pleadingly up the staircase where voices were quickly growing louder. Something crashed. Axel thundered up the stairs. "Oh, no...nonono. Not now." He murmured in a hushed whisper. How could he be so stupid?

"Roxas!"

His hand now on the blonde's bedroom doorknob, Axel's mind frantically whirred, "How did things go so wrong?"

**Xiii**

My name is Roxas, and I'm fifteen and crazy. I know you probably think that I'm exaggerating, that all teenagers are their own special brand of 'crazy', but I'm serious. I really am insane. Or at least, that's what the Scientist told me everyday before...um...before?

Sorry; lost my train of thought. I don't know what I was talking about. Axel says that's normal for people with post-traumatic stress syndrome. That's what he called it, I think. But I'm just me; Roxas: normal, introverted blonde, who really should get a girlfriend, and has never done a stressful enough thing to develop a traumatic stress-related disorder. I've got the numerals 'XIII' tattooed on the inside of my wrist and I live with my best friend. I don't remember anything past us moving into the small two bedroom house we live in now, just vague bits of memories and what Axel tells me.

Yep. I'm totally normal.

**Viii**

Roxas was always an odd one. Like, seriously strange. Especially since we are what we are: heartless freaks, that's what the Scientist called us.

Make that _super special dangerous_ heartless freaks. He always said that there was something weird about us, but Roxas was the strangest out of the both of us. Roxas retained his memories, thoughts even feelings. Memories, for him, come in fragments through dreams; the rest of us aren't that lucky. He might know who he is without even knowing it. I can remember some things, but I don't remember everything.

Roxas thinks he's crazy, but that isn't accurate. I wish I could've slaughtered Vexen in such a way that I got the proper satisfaction; revenge for filling Rox's head with that stuff. Rox was just under stress from his role in our past.

But he is _not_ crazy.

**Xiii**

I couldn't sleep last night. I thought that in my head, and scolded myself; I'm fifteen for crying out loud. I couldn't sleep because the candles went out. We don't have electricity here because we just moved in a few days ago, so Axel and I have to use candles to keep the house lit at night. Its fun, but I still worry about the shadows dancing on the walls whenever we sit near a lit candle; always afraid that one time, the shadows won't be mine or Axel's...

The candle in my room went out, and I immediately woke up. I looked around the room, as if I were looking for someone in the corners; I always worry that there are, that _they_ are there again. Suddenly, there in the dark, the mattress, laying on the floor near the window, which is open to let in a breeze, is too hot. My sheets are too stuffy. I'm freaking out, and bad.

Oh...it's happening again. Oh, no. The panic attacks.

I'm too warm; my face is wet with cold sweat, which is doing nothing to cool me off like it should. I need fresh air. I need Axel. I stumble off of my mattress and try to make my way across the too hot wooden floor to the door. One thing is on my mind now; _I need to get to Axel before it gets worse_. When I hear the voice I almost jump out of my skin. "A-are you okay?"

I can't really make out the figure in the corner; it's too dark. The voice is not Axel's. It sounds more like...mine? "Are you okay?" the figure in the corner of my bedroom repeats. "Who are you?" I barely manage to summon my voice, and when I do, it only comes out above a whisper. There's a short, soft laugh, and then a smile in the shadows. The figure tentatively stepped forward, and I can focus on him a little bit better. "Hi, I'm Ventus. Ven, for short." My eyes opened wide at the boy standing in front of me. Crystalline blue eyes stare back into mine. Spiky, uncontrollable hair mirrors mine, even though my mop is a little more mussed up from the bed pillows. "You..." I try to get the words out. "You look just like me."

Ventus regards me, tilting his head curiously. "Yeah. You look exactly like me, too. Watta small world. We might be related...?" he slowly said. Then he laughs. "Get real." I say a bit harshly. I'm still suspicious of this new person, who suddenly appeared in my bedroom. This earns me a shy smile from Ventus. "I don't have family. Axel is the closest thing I have, and we aren't even related." Ventus shrugs. "I was going to say that we might be, like, photocopies of each other; Y'know, as in clones and that kind of thing; but you're a little too 'grrrr' to be me." I try not to laugh at Ventus' word choice; I was too 'grrrr?'

"Tch. Yeah? Then you're a little too weird to be me. How did you even get in here?" I bit back. Ven raises an eyebrow playfully. "Weird? Ha! Look who's talking. _You_ think you're crazy. If you think I'm weird, then you should look in the mirror." My serious façade slips and I grin a little. "I think I am." Ventus pauses and then smirks. He laughs, and it sounds so much like me. "Nice one." he comments. "How did you get in here? Are you a squatter or something?" I ask. Ventus looks at me with confusion. "No. I just kinda...wandered in here." Now it is my turn to look confused. "Wandered in? When did you have the time to do that? Axel and I were in the house all day."

Ven smiles. "You have to blink sometimes, right?" he offers. What? I never get the chance to voice my thought; mirror-me is too quick. Ven covers my eyes with his hands and says brightly, "Blink!"

When I wake up, no one is there, and the shadows are gone.

**New bright little story! Tell me what you think! I thrive off of followings and reviews! **

**-AC**


	2. Axel i

Viii

I _was_ making pancakes, but on account of my flipping, messing up, and trying again and again, I had to find an alternative breakfast choice. We don't have much food in our refrigerator; we're still settling in, so there is almost no time to go grocery shopping, and we have to be sparse. I am searching for a new breakfast choice when I hear Roxas shambling down the stairs behind me. He stumbles into the kitchen with a serious case of bedhead, rubbing groggy blue crystalline eyes; he yawns and I laugh quietly. "Hey, g'morning, Rox." Roxas grins sleepily. "Hey, Axel."

He plops into one of the cushioned chairs and arches his back, stretching, and a series of loud pops echo throughout the room. "Gross. What's up with you?" I say in response to his back popping. "I kinda...slept on the floor." Roxas says slowly. I pause. "You know you don't have to sleep on the floor; that's what your mattress is there." Roxas sighs. "I know that..." he says sheepishly. "I know that; I'm not stupid." Now it is my turn to exhale in exasperation. Roxas was never a very good liar. "Alright, what happened? C'mon, Rox, you don't really think that I don't know something's up?" I say. Roxas doesn't respond for a few minutes. I stop what I am doing at the counter and turn to face him.

"I...um..." He starts. I raise an eyebrow. "I had another panic attack." Roxas finally says. My eyes widen.

Roxas has been having panic attacks since we escaped 13 together about nine months ago. He doesn't know why he has them, and I think that is what scared of most. I want to tell him about what happened nine months ago. And I want so desperately to make the panic attacks and the stress syndrome, and ease his pain. But not now. He's too fragile. Roxas looks at the table with tired eyes.

But...can he wait that long?

"Why didn't you come and get me?" I question. Oh, wow, that was stupid. Why don't you try to come find me in the dark while you're practically seizuring in your room, looking for the door? Roxas rolls his eyes. "I tried. It's kinda hard when I stumbling all over the place. And anyway, I met this kid who looks just like me in my room last night." Roxas' eyes are far away, and he seemed to talk more to himself than to me. "He...calmed me down."

I bite my lip. " You sure it wasn't just you're reflection in the mirror?" I say with half-hearted humor. Roxas shakes his head. "You know I don't have a mirror in my room yet."

_Don't tell me...he's getting worse. _

"He said his name was Ventus." Roxas continues.

He's not crazy.

"He also said that he 'wandered' into the house when we weren't looking."

He's not...

"He even called me weird."

"Hey, stop it." I didn't mean to say it so harshly, but Roxas was really starting to worry me. I needed to reassure myself that he was going to be alright. Roxas frowned, his eyes narrowed. "What? I was just sayin'..." he said. I sigh and lean back on the counter. "Yeah...I know. Sorry for being so loud. I'm just a little put off by your panic attack." I try to offer Rox a smile. He returns it slowly. "Yeah. I guess so." He doesn't seem so sure. But still, I exhale, and put a smile on my face. "Okay!" I sand my hands together and turn back to the counter momentarily, and when I turn around again, I have two of our plastic bowls in my hands, filled with cold cereal and milk. "Guess what we're having for breakfast!" I say optimistically. "Corn flakes and cow juice." Roxas wrinkles his nose. He hates it when I call milk 'cow juice'. "Noooo..." he laughs. "Coulda sworn I smelled something burning. Something like pancakes...?" he says a bit expectantly. "Sorry. I burned them, so you're right. I used up all of the eggs and most of the milk. Guess we'll have to go and buy groceries today." I say sitting at the table. I slide Roxas' bowl of cereal to him. "You could pretend that they're pancakes..."

I wait on Roxas to get ready for our trip to the market, standing outside the house, leaned on the front steps. I am still worried about him; maybe it was time I saw her again. She was adept in this kind of thing. Maybe I would see her while we shopped. I can hear Roxas thundering through the house, grabbing his jacket and running out the door. "I'm ready!" he says, screeching to a halt next to me. "Excited to get out?" I ask. Stretching for the millionth time since he woke up this morning, Roxas nods. "Yeah. I want to see the town already."

"Ah, suspense. You're not very good at it are you?"

We walk to the market; it's a good ways away from our house, but within leisurely walking distance. "What do you wanna get? Keep it small; we only have enough money to get the essentials." I ask, as we close in on the market. "Let's get ice cream." Roxas says. "That's totally an essential." I grin. "Yeah." We find a shopping basket, and go for the produce section. Roxas grabs a plastic bag and begins inspecting tomatoes from one of the stands. Four are dropped into the bag.

I love tomatoes. I could eat them everyday and not get tired of them, but Roxas hates them. He won't eat tomato sauce either, not even on his pasta, a food he loves. I told you he was strange. While Roxas meanders through the aisles, I get a strange feeling, like I'm being watched. I glance at the windows at the front of the market, and see a familiar blonde head sitting in front of them on a bench.

Roxas is still wandering around, so I leave him to his own devices and slip out to the front of the store.

She's sitting on a bench to the left of me, looking radiant in her pastel pink dress and her small-brimmed sunhat. She's doing what she normally does; drawing in her sketchbook, quietly. I exhale and sit next to her. For a minute she says nothing. She scuffs her brown boots on the ground. "You're looking good." She says with a small smile. She continues to direct her attention to her drawing. "Thanks. You too. I see you got out." I reply. "I told you I would. It was thanks to you, y'know." The girl says. "Glad I could help." I return. She continues to draw. "But that's not why you're here, is it, Namine?"

"No. I knew you probably needed me. What is it?" Namine says. She is still drawing. I can't see what it is. "I think you know." I say. "I might. Why don't you tell me?" she replies. She selects a different crayon, a black one. "Roxas..."I rub my palms into my eyes, "Roxas is getting worse. After nine months of panic attacks and fear of the dark, I didn't think it could get much worse." Namine pauses momentarily, and then resumes her drawing again. "Worse? How?"

"Last night, he told me that he saw someone who looked just like him. Said he 'wandered' into the house, or something. His name was-"

"Ventus?" Namine says almost excitedly. She looks at me fully with those pale blue eyes. "Yeah. How'd you know?" Namine never ceases to amaze me with her knowing nature. I've never told her, but honestly, sometimes she freaks me out. " That name stirs a thought. I think Roxas is in trouble." She says.

"What? What do you mean? Is 13 looking for him?" I glance back at the market, trying to see where Roxas is inside. Namine puts down her drawing. "No. Um..." Namine bits her lip and looks at her knees. "What is it?" I ask. I can hear my voice growing frantic. "Um...well...I don't exactly know just who is posing a threat." I'm surprised; this is probably the first time that Namine has been stumped. I almost don't know how to respond to her. "Roxas could remember." She offers.

Good?

"But...the memories could be hard on him. He's still suffering isn't he? This could break him."

Not good.

Namine rips out the page from her sketchbook and hands it to me with a sigh. The drawing, a scribbling of what looks like three boys, one with pointed black hair, and two that are identical with spiked blonde hair, is unfamiliar to me. "Who are these supposed to be?" I ask her. Namine points to the two blonde figures. "Roxas and Ventus. Ventus could be the threat." She says. "What about the black one?" I ask, pointing to it. Namine shakes her head. "I don't know yet. But he's bad news, too. He could be the breaking point of Roxas."

"Wait, they're real?" Chills run up my spine. Namine doesn't ease my thoughts. Her words are cryptic. "More-or-less. I told you, I don't know yet." She sighs, frustration staining her normally calm voice. "I've never been this useless before." I roll her drawing into a tube in my fist. "You're not being useless, Namine. You're just not sure of what to do. It happens. Just relax."

Maybe I should follow my own advice. "Just see what you can find out, and I'll keep an eye on Rox."

Namine nods. "I'll see you later." She stands. "It was nice seeing you again." Namine starts down the street, but then stops and trots back to me, clutching her sketchbook to her chest. "Oh! And, Axel, just because 13 isn't looking for Roxas doesn't mean that they aren't looking for us." I don't show surprise, but I sit up straighter, more aware. Namine smiles her goodbye. "Please be careful." She kisses my forehead and then flounces away, her sunhat bouncing with every step she takes.


End file.
